The Underground (Rewritten)
by Braindead123
Summary: Where 15-year-old Jeff is a gay pokephile - as taboo as it gets - with another boring summer ahead of him, a mysterious job offer could turn the latter around for him. As it turns out, there is a place for pokephiles like Jeff, but what about his façade? Can he handle living a double-life? Will he have to choose? Pokemon/underaged human gay yaoi M/M pokephilia. No likey, no readey.


Where most high school agers can't wait for summer vacation, Jeff never could stand it. Whereas TV always portrayed teenagers spending their summer hanging out with friends, partying when the parents were away, and basically having a whole bunch of fun, it never seemed to work out that way for Jeff. For him it was always alternating from TV to video games to rubbing himself off to playing Dungeons and Dragons online to one of the previous activities. So, it's only a given that during the summer he would feel as if he was stuck in a rut. Heck, he might have offed himself out of sheer boredom if it weren't for the company of his trusty Charmeleon.

On some level, Tomaius (pronounced like the words toe-my-us with stress on "my") knew who and what he was to Jeff. He knew Jeff mostly lacked friends in the true sense of the word and had no complaints about metaphorically filling those metaphorical shoes On some level, he was absolutely oblivious to how Jeff thought of him. True, the Charmeleon definitely appreciated that the boy never treated him like a house pet - much unlike the boy's parents - so he did know that Jeff didn't look at Pokemon in the normal way. On the other hand, Tomaius still had no idea what was going on in that boy's head when looking in the Pokemon's direction.

To summarize Jeff's thoughts, he always wished Tomaius would hold his tail just a bit higher.

No, Jeff didn't think it was love or any sort of romantic attraction that he felt towards Tobaius. The world they lived in told them that love was not only blind but very, very picky. Love was with someone with the opposite sex. Love was with the same species. Love was only between humans, as Pokemon were incapable of such an intellectually-demanding emotion. Every time. Anything else was just lust or physical attraction, and a perverted sense of it at that. That was fact.

The thing is, though, that the last thing Pokemon are is unintelligent. "You don't believe me?" Jeff would challenge anyone if he got the chance, "Meet my Charmeleon." And it was true, too; as far as anyone familiar with Tomaius knew, he was the only Charmeleon capable of clear communication with humans. In actuality, though, he was an example of, not an exception to the rule. It was actually quite simple, the way Jeff and Tomaius communicated.

Tomaius wrote. An unimpressive feat to be sure, but Jeff's 'friends' always went crazy when they saw the Charmeleon do it. At first, they always seemed to think it was a hoax, that Tomaius was just well-trained to write a couple of generic sentences on a cue that would happen in casual conversation, for instance to write ~Fine~ when asked "How are you?" whether he was fine or not and didn't even really know what was really going on. Of course, a few of the Charmeleon's snide remarks such as, ~Really, if Pokemon can understand human languages so well, why is it so hard to believe that we can use them ourselves?~ ended up convincing people.

Of course Tomaius despised being shown off like a carnival sideshow, but he knew that wasn't really the boy's intent. In reality, it was only by knowing the boy's intent that the Charmeleon consented to be treated like a freak show. "It's okay to be close-minded," Jeff would always say, "but it's not okay to hurt other people with it. The problem is when you politely knock on the door of a closed mind, the person inside just locks it. If you knock harder, they barricade the door. If you call inside that you know they're there, they'll hide until you leave, and you can't barge in because the door is locked and blocked. So, what you need to do is try knocking first - give people a chance. If that doesn't work, though, then they had their chance to stop hurting people by being close-minded. What too many don't realize is that's when you bring in the battering ram, before the mind becomes impenetrable. So, I knock first. If the mind's door doesn't open, you're my battering ram."

True, it sounded nice in theory, but in practice all that consistently happened was that the door would shut again as soon as Jeff and Tomaius left it unattended. Even Jeff's own parents dismissed it as nothing more than a mildly entertaining party trick, meaning they still had Tomaius eat out of a bowl on the floor. _At least inmates in a maximum-security prison are treated like people. The way we treat Pokemon, though..._ was how Jeff thought more or less. Tomaius is a predator. He'd rather catch a Sentret out in the backyard than eat this kibble crap.

But Jeff thought far ahead of his time. It was just sad to him how the so-called 'Pokemon rights' groups were going about it. Sure, an abused Pikachu removed from his or her 'owner' sounds nice in theory, but not when he or she sits in a cage 24/7 only waiting to be taken by another 'owner' who will still just treat the Pikachu like a pet. That isn't even mentioning the plight of Pokemon like Miltank or Mareep. Sure, they get nice, wide pastures and good, green grass to munch on thanks to 'rights groups,' but at the end of the day those Pokemon still ended up with bullets in their brains and as beef or tripe when they had yielded enough milk, wool, and offspring to keep the cycle going.

Needless to say, the boy was a vegan.

Oh, and the biggest thing Jeff couldn't let go was these groups' stances on the insensitively named act of 'pokephilia' - that is, the act of a human and a Pokemon having sexual relations. The uproar of the current high-profile case he was hearing about on the news was a set of nails on a chalkboard to the ears of the boy. "Burn the sicko!" and "Marginalize the mad!" were among the phrases on the numerous picket signs outside of the courthouse during the case.

...and the prosecution's 'rape' argument holds as much water as a broken glass. But, of course, stating such on this blog is just preaching to the choir. For those unfamiliar with the case, Jim Dobson was caught having relations with a Mightyena, and mind you it wasn't in some public place but in his own home by a neighbor. Dobson's defense is that he wasn't raping the Mightyena because she wanted and enjoyed it. The claim is that she was majorly in heat and wouldn't quit presenting herself until Dobson did her.

Obviously, the court isn't about to buy that. The jury will just dismiss Dobson as sick and crazy, so he'll be inevitably convicted and marginalized. The thing is though, that he's telling the truth, or, rather I suspect that he is. In the video of his arrest, which can be found on the homepage, notice the wild barking of the Mightyena.

For starters, you can hear her barking before the cops even get to the door, just as the car pulls up. My Charmeleon, who wants to stay unnamed as usual, translated and transcribed her speech. She was trying to warn Dobson of the police, which is how he knew to start running. Skipping ahead to 0:30 when she's being seized by a handler, my writer tells me she's shouting of her human's innocence and he did nothing wrong.

Is Dobson guilty of pokephilia? Unquestionably so. But that's like saying I'm guilty of being a skilled and handsome blog writer - it hurts nobody. As there are no explicit laws against pokephilia on the books - though that'll change in a hurry come the vote next week - the rape charge is what they're going for. Pity this couple, having been t- is what the unfinished draft of Jeff's weekly post looked like before deciding to take a break. It didn't need to go up until the following day, anyway.

The boy thought of himself almost as a revolutionary leading the charge towards true Pokemon's rights. What shocked him was that he had a hell of a following, too. He was looking at about 10,000 hits per month, though obviously nobody had the balls to comment on the posts, since the free website Jeff used demanded that commenters sign into some e-mail or social networking site to comment. It was a practice Jeff encouraged, though, remaining silent to avoid persecution. Even the boy was anonymous online.

How was he to know just whose attention he was attracting, though?

Offline, Jeff had to be less outgoing about his cause. The Thinker, his screen name, could say and do whatever he wanted, but Jeff was still bound by society's rules. Jeff still had to go to school, do as his parents told, and pretend to be 'normal.'Part of normality was, inevitably in this world or almost any other, finding a paying job. Beyond hoping for a few extra bucks to go towards buying his own web domain, Jeff simply wanted something to fill his time during the summer even more. Getting a part-time job wasn't at all easy, though.

No typical hiring manager was about to have their attention grabbed by an application from some teenager with absolutely no work experience, let alone think to his or her self, _I have to hire that teenager!_ Sure, Jeff was determined, persistent, and eager to learn new things, but what did that matter? He was a teenager with no work experience.

_Well, how am I supposed to get work experience if nobody will hire me?_ demanded Jeff from nobody, It's a vicious cycle.

That didn't mean he wasn't still trying, though. With summer having arrived, the boy really needed something to occupy his time if he didn't want to spend the next three months passing his time by sleeping, eating, and forcing his company upon Tomaius out of loneliness and sheer boredom. Sure, Tomaius didn't mind; Jeff was the only human who treated the draconic Pokemon like the person he was, after all. At the same time, though, money for his own website was too good of an opportunity to pass up for Jeff.

So, that's why he took a break from his blog post to go out and start hunting. For the most part, the bus he rode on was uncrowded and devoid of other people, minus the driver. That changed, though, when a well-dressed man - as in, a suit, tie, jacket, and pair of loafers well-dressed - got on the bus, a grimace darkening his face and the newest and very expensive model of the Pokegear - they had expanded beyond the trainer market by then - held to his ear. "Well, what do you want me to do about it?" demanded he from his caller after taking a seas across the aisle from Jeff and the bus got moving again, "Who do you think would even take this job, anyway?"

He didn't mean to eavesdrop at first, but that's exactly what Jeff started to do when he heard the word 'job.' After an arrogant woman's tone seemed to not appreciate the man's tone, he asked her, "Well, you can't blame me. Young blood sounds good to me, too, but what am I supposed to do? Get someone off the street...? Yeah, well none of them worked out, so that's pretty much all we've got unless you want to do it yourself." The well-dressed man flinched from the phone and the tirade that spilled from it. Jeff almost wanted to flinch, too, for that matter. "What do you mean, 'go ahead, then?' No, look, if someone wants to apply for employment at the Underground, they'll have to do it in person like policy states."

The Underground? The boy's curiosity got the better of him, and he started to visibly lean towards the man beside across the aisle. "...Well, what about him..,? That's not a terrible idea, but you're forgetting that we have no idea who-" After a pause while the woman spoke, the irritated man seemed to lighten up and give an amused chuckle. "Well, you've been busy. Still, though, whoever wants the job can just head to the club on 5th and 33rd like everyone else... Look, I've got to let you go. My stop is here."

Ah, so the 'Underground' was some sort of nightclub? After his fellow passenger's exit, Jeff took out his own Pokegear - not nearly as new as that man's was, but still capable of internet access - and googled, the underground club auburn city. He got a favorable link pretty quickly, too, and right at the top of the list

The Underground Teen Club

Meet and socialize with other teens while having a good snack or listening and dancing to all of todays biggest hits with a live DJ! Locations near you: 7579 33rd Street, Aub...

So, it was a teen club! The boy assumed it was some big chain if there were a lot of locations and its higher-ups dressed as well as that man had, though he'd never actually heard of it before. That settled it, then. A place like that would definitely be a cool place to work, and it sounded like they were specifically searching for a teenager to fill the position. Maybe they need a new DJ or something, figured Jeff, making a point to pop in and give the place a look at some point, though he was going to stick to his job hunting route for that day.

* * *

The following afternoon, Jeff figured it was about time to head downtown and see where the whole 'Underground' thing would take him. The thing is, though, that there existed a problem. Pen... pen... what does a person have to do for a freakin' pen around here? thought the boy, scrambling around the house for a writing utensil. "Hey, Tommy!" he shouted up the stairs when he got to their bottom, "How about leaving a pen or two for the rest of us, eh?"

Pretty quickly, he was nearly impaled by a pen taped to a piece of paper flying down the stairs, which read, ~How many times must I have to ask you to at least USE my full human-like name if you're going to give me one?~

_Geez, that guy sure is touchy about a simple nickname_, remarked Jeff in his own mind while out loud he somewhat sincerely and somewhat amusedly apologized, "Sorry, Tomaius! Anyway, I'm going out again, so seeya!" Before he actually managed to leave the foot of the stairs, Tomaius lazily descended down the stairs and delivered another message.

~That job thing again?~

"Yeah, that job thing again," sighed the boy, "but, hey, we all have to get one sooner or later, right?"

~Not really,~ was what Tomaius wrote next on the pad of paper that he almost always had under one arm when the boy's parents were absent while using a different pen.

"Unfortunately, Tommy, yeah really. Sure, the system works for some people, and good for them. The thing is that the rest of us - people like me or you - want a little more or less from the system. This created a conflict, because those who run the world of humanity don't like it when us who are born under a certain way try to leave it. They make it difficult. For instance, I could simply buy a little plot of land from the government and never have to deal with them or the system again, but that's just it: to escape the machine, you have to bury yourself in it first. See my point?"

Tomaius scribbled furiously on his pad, ~Well, that's a pretty low move. At least Pokemon can flee to the wild if we really want to and not have a whole police force try and track us down. I guess being treated like you don't matter as much as a human has some upsides.~

"Yep, which brings us back to square one: the 'I'm going out and pursuing a potential job lead' square. Seeya later, bud!"

* * *

Downtown is where all the big buildings were. High-rise apartment complexes, corporate headquarters, and skyscrapers galore. It was no Boston or Tokyo, but the feel was definitely there. Living just outside the city limits in a far more rural area and having spent so little time downtown, it certainly made Jeff feel pretty small. On arrival at the corner of 5th and 33rd Streets, though, it became quite apparent to Jeff why he had never heard of the Underground before: it wasn't there. It plainly and simply wasn't there. The four buildings in the corners of the intersection were just some bank, a Sharon Towers hotel - one of the biggest chains worldwide - an electronics shop, and a fast food restaurant.

To make things more confusing, the Sharon Towers was standing right where the Underground was supposed to be. Jeff double-checked, but the one location listed in Auburn City was 7579 33rd Street, a number which the hotel was taking up. After dismissing the possibility that he may have misheard the passenger on the bus yesterday - he was listening quite closely, after all - he figured he had nothing to lose by walking in and asking for directions. After all, the worst that could happen was they would tell him they had no idea what he was talking about, in which case Jeff would have wasted his time but overall lost nothing.

After managing to make his way through the revolving doors - which took him a small while and required the doorman to stop the doors since he had never seen such a thing before - the teenager, humiliated, thanked his uniformed savior and scanned the spacious, five-star lobby. His first thought was, _Geez, whose ass do you have to regularly kiss to make enough bank to stay __here__ for any length of time?_ Scanning the room, he was contemplating whom he should ask about the Underground.

The couple behind the desk looked pretty busy with checking in some big group, maybe a convention or something. The bellhops all seemed swamped with the amount of luggage being moved around for the former reason. The guests may not even have been from anywhere at all if they were staying in a hotel in the first place. The concierge probably only offered her services to guests, something Jeff certainly was not. That left... "Excuse me, sir?" interjected the doorman politely, interrupting the boy's thought process and drawing his attention. "Pardon me, but it would appear your father is beckoning to you from by the elevators," advised he, gesturing to Jeff in the direction.

My father? thought the boy with confusion. He glanced in the direction of the twin elevators thinking, _Why would he be here?_ As it turned out, though, Jeff's father was, predictably, absent. The doorman had just assumed that the well-dressed male beckoning towards the boy was his father. As it turned out, the adolescent's caller had no relation to him at all. Jeff didn't even think that he knew the guy. So, why was he calling for Jeff's attention?

During Jeff's approach to the man and the answer to the mystery, the suited male extracted a pokegear - the newest and most expensive model - from his pocket, checked its screen, and decided that whoever was trying to reach him then and there wasn't important enough at present. The Pokegear was the clue Jeff needed to recognize the man, so he didn't need to hear, "There you are, lad! And here I was afraid that our little encounter on the bus wasn't enough to bring you by."

That's when the elevator doors opened. "Ah, finally!" exclaimed Jeff's former busmate as if he had been waiting for it for a long time. "Well, come along, then!" invited the man, stepping inside and holding the door. Jeff would have had to admit that present events truly confused him if he wasn't too confused to be thinking rationally. So, in his moment thoughtlessness, he stepped into the elevator. This story truly begins, though, when the doors close and the pair starts to descend.

Despite having been on the ground floor to begin with.


End file.
